Kirigiri
by Ptroxsora
Summary: Authors beware! There's a book on the lose that makes whatever you write in it come true. But when you can't change what's been written, who knows what will happen to the poor person who decides to try to write a book in it...


This is not a story. Okay, it sorta is. But it's still not a story. I've confused you, haven't I? Well, trust me, this introduction isn't nearly as confusing as what I'm about to tell you about.

This is more of a warning than a story, but it has a pretty interesting- uh, plot I guess. So I guess you could call this a meta-story.

What's the warning? Well, if you would keep reading this, you'll find out!

What? Who am I? Didn't you read the author name of this fanfiction? That's right, it's Ptroxsora here. Let's say, for the purposes of this story, that my name is Emerald. Or Emmy for short. There's nothing really special about this name, I just think that it sounds cool.

So now that I've introduced myself, can you stop interrupting me so we can get on with the story? If not, we'll never get anywhere. Besides I get so distracted, I'll be the one who's always derailing this thing.

Now let's get on with this.

Oh yeah, I don't own Dangan Ronpa. I probably shouldn't forget about this.

Now normally, when I write something, the story goes from my brain straight to the computer, via my hands, my trusty Toshiba's keyboard and lots of foods and drinks. I know what you're thinking, stop judging me. So, my friends are always telling me that I'm doing things wrong, I should be writing it all down on paper first, then copy it over to the computer. Apparently you write faster when you're writing on paper, probably because paper doesn't have all the distractions that computers possess.

I never really would write in notebooks for two reasons. One, I have handwriting that's so terrible, even I can barely read it. Two, I hate paper and paperwork. I swear, it's like I'm allergic to the stuff- whenever I see it, I break out in a nasty rash of procrastination. It's just terrible.

But I had made a promise to a friend that I would give writing it out on paper a try at least once, maybe twice if I enjoyed it.

So I forced myself away from my beloved laptop and went out to my local bookstore to buy a book. Not one for reading, one for writing. You know, one of those little ones that have some lined paper to write in. Those suckers aren't easy to find, the one I got was the only one at the store. They never had those notebooks again, though I completely understand why. But we'll get to that. And there I go, getting distracted again. Really, you guys should remind me not to rant so often, because trust me, it happens a lot.

So you'd think there's nothing out of the ordinary about the book, right? Wrong!

The book itself had caught my eye, partially because it was the only one there. The TARDIS blue coloring was another turn on for me. And oh God, it sounds like I found the freaking book attractive. Funny how you can say something in your head and it sounds just fine. But continuing on with the book. It's inside was the same shade of blue except for one small square in the bottom left corner of it's interior cover.

The little square was hot pink and said in blue ink, "Written is real.". I had paid no mind to that little hot pink space, maybe if I hadn't, I would have to be writing out this warning. Maybe things would have been better if I hadn't chosen to buy that book. But I can't afford to think like that. What happened to me was for the better, right?

So I had taken the book over to the cash register to purchase it, but none of the people at the register seemed to recognize the book and had no recollection of selling notebooks. The lady behind the cash register had simply given the book to me for five dollars and I returned to my home.

It was pretty late at night so I didn't have to worry about work interfering with my writing schedule. I sat down on my bed and opened up the book, grabbing a pen and beginning to write.

I had recently become infatuated with the Japanese murder mystery game Dangan Ronpa and had begun writing a SYOC for it. The response to it was astounding and I decided that I wanted to write something else for Dangan Ronpa to satisfy my readers for when I wasn't updating it.

My friend, who we'll call January, had told me that I was a lot like Kirigiri at times. While I would quickly deny that I was anything like her, I had to admit that we did share some similarities. We both hated it when people kept secrets from us and we were both fairly calm. We even share the same birthday, October 6th.

Because of or similarities, I had decided that I would write a fanfiction where I was in Kirigiri's body.

For those of you who are wondering why I would want to write about that, stop and think about it for a minute. Wouldn't you leap at the opportunity to be your favorite fictional character? You know, without their personalities and stuff getting in the way. Wouldn't you jump at the opportunity to do that?

Normally, I would love to do that. It would be a welcome change from some of the more annoying parts of my life.

And normally, I would be typing out that story on a computer first. But things weren't normal.

I began writing, quickly writing the first sentence. I had to admit the first line was rather plain, not like something that you would see in my normal fics.

I read out the line in my head. "I found myself in Kirigiri Kyouko's body."

I sat up from my position on the top bunk of my bed. My friends, January, Thyme and I had been paying for an apartment together. They're probably going to read this, so I don't really want to pass comments on them. Thyme happened to be rereading the first Dangan Ronpa translation on January's SomethingAwful account on the bottom bunk, so naturally I had the events of the first game flying through my mind. I was thinking of Kirigiri before the Monobear, the trials, the school life of mutual killings... you know what I'm talking about.

And what was the first thing that Kirigiri did at Hope's Peak? She woke up.

And what did I do? I woke up. Feeling disoriented- something that hardly ever happens to me, and immediately raised my suspicions- I sat up, raising my head off the cool desk beneath my head.

"_So, you're up_," a cool and collected girl's voice said. I looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. The room I was in had yellow wallpaper that was peeling a bit and several desks with a chalkboard on the front wall by the door. Over top of the windows, there were crudely screwed on metal plates. That was when I figured out where I was. I was in Hope's Peak Academy.

"_It's nice to see that you've figured it out_," the voice continued.

"Who are you and why can't I see you?" I asked, already fairly sure I knew what the answer was, but still needing confirmation.

"_I don't know why you're asking when you already know what I'm going to say. But if you want confirmation, here it is. Hello, Emerald Sykes. My name is Kirigiri Kyouko, and you are currently in my body_," the voice said.


End file.
